


Test Subject!Varian Drabble

by CheshireChett



Category: Tangled: The Series (Cartoon)
Genre: Blood, Test subject
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-09 00:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15255393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheshireChett/pseuds/CheshireChett
Summary: Varian has lived in solitary confinement his entire life. He's never interacted with another human being. His only relationships are with a dispenser, his stuffed raccoon Ruddiger, and an AI screen called MG.





	Test Subject!Varian Drabble

**Author's Note:**

> This is an au of mine that I've had for a while now. I'm currently in the process of writing Varian's rescue.

Varian fidgeted with Ruddiger’s, his stuffed raccoon, ears. He’d woken up not too long ago, having found two stitched incisions on both sides of him. How they got there, he doesn’t know. He’s tried questioning MG about them, but her answers were always vague and never the kind she would usually answer with. He knows she’s hiding something from him, but any further questioning would result in her answering:

 

“It’s not in my programming to say.”

 

MG has always answered his questions. Well, at least, the ones that weren’t about what was happening to him. He’s learned much about the outside world, and he wishes to see it one day but MG says that much of it has been destroyed and/or no longer exists. 

 

“You are safe in here,” she would tell him. And he believed her. 

 

There was the sound of a clattering that pulled Varian out of his thoughts. He knew that sound all too well. The boy leapt out of bed and sped walked to the food dispenser and picked up the tray of food. He took it back to his bed and happily ate. Once he finished, he set the tray back into the dispenser, climbed back into his bed and cuddled with his toy. He had to lay on his back so that he doesn’t jostle the stitches and cause them to rip. Memories of the last time that happened flooded his mind, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to control his breathing. The last time that happened…there was a lot of blood. Well, maybe not a _whole_ lot, but he found that even the smallest amount would make him dizzy. He doesn’t remember everything that happened, but he does remember passing out and then waking up to find new stitches in the cut. 

 

He’s been here for as long as he could remember. MG taught him everything he knows: reading, writing, history, etc. She was patient and willing to answer many of his questions, except for the ones about his stitches and why he couldn’t move at times. The first time he couldn’t move he was panicking, but she calmed him down, saying that he’ll be fine, that he’ll be able to move again. MG was right, of course, and when he asked why he couldn’t move, she told him it was for his own good. He was confused by this answer, but when he voiced his confusion, she answered with the usual:

 

“It’s not in my programming to say.”

 

By now he’s pretty much given up on asking about what was happening to him. He has connected the times when he has eaten, passed out and woken up with something new to whatever or whoever is doing these things to him, but there is nothing he can do about it. MG won’t give him answers, and he doesn’t remember anything that happens between passing out and waking up. 

 

It wasn’t until the next day when he woke up and found himself surrounded by strangers. People he’s never seen before. And he was in a strange room. It wasn’t his room. So where was he? Panic rose in his chest as he looked around frantically. 

 

“W-where am I?!” he cried. No one answered him. There was just shouting. 

 

“He’s awake!”

 

“Get the gas!” 

 

And then someone placed something cold over his nose and mouth. He struggled a bit, but a few moments later everything was black again. When he woke up again, he immediately went to MG, seething. 

 

“Who were those people?!” he screeched. “What were they doing to me!? What did they give me!?”

 

“Varian, you must calm down,” MG tried to reassure. 

 

“No,” he shook his head, “no I will _not_ calm down until you answer my questions and not give the ‘It’s not in my programming to say’ crap!!”

 

MG fell silent. 

 

“Well?!”

 

“I’m sorry, Varian,” she finally said before a sharp pain stabbed into his neck. He cried out, and his hand flew up to where the pain was. There was something long and smooth protruding from his neck, but he didn’t have time to pull it out because the room was already turning sideways. 

 

 

Varian woke in his bed. His head pounded as he sat up. He groaned and gripped it. 

 

“How do you feel, Varian?” MG asked. 

 

“My head hurts,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead. 

 

“There are painkillers if you need them,” she informed. 

 

Varian looked around his bed and spotted his plush raccoon. He grabbed it and hugged it close to his chest. He let out a sigh before getting up to go to the dispenser. He popped the pill in his mouth and washed it down with the small cup of water. He then turned on his heel, went back to his bed and laid down in it. 

 

“Varian.” He looked over at the screen. 

 

“Yes, MG?”

 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” 

 

He raised an eyebrow. Last thing he remembered? She’s never asked him this before. 

 

“Why do you ask?” he inquired. 

 

“Varian…”

 

“Ok, fine.” He sighed and thought back. “The last thing I remember is eating my macaroni and cheese before laying down in my bed to cuddle Ruddiger.”

 

“Thank you,” she said. A few moments later, the lights dimmed. 

 

“Get some rest, Varian,” MG said, softly. “You’ve had a long day.” 

 

Varian let out a yawn. His eyelids grew heavy as sleep took hold of him and soon drifted off to dream. 


End file.
